The Zartacla Redemption
by Zapwing
Summary: Moss and his cronies hold Constantine prisoner. And he escapes leaving a hilarious impression.


**The Zartacla Redemption**

Nobody knew what to make of lil' Constantine when they brought him in. I mean, for starters, he was just a kid. Probably no older than sixteen, skinny, tan skin and black hair. I have to admit it, I kinda felt sorry for the poor feller. Not that he was in any despair though, he was grinning the whole time, as if what they were doing was futile. They didn't bother with prison fatigues. They just chucked him in that cell, with his own clothes on; black jeans, combat boots, black jacket, and red shirt, the whole works.

Cyclonia had had a bounty on his head for sometime; something about blowing up installations somewhere. He was a mercenary, a Gunslinger, someone who could handle a rifle and handle it well; the sort of guy who'd willingly work for you for the right pay.

Zartacla had been improved after Aerrow's escape last year. Cyclonis had been a little kindly with Moss and she'd given the warden a second chance. The walls were now strengthened. The floors were now solid metal, so no rat could dig himself out.

Constantine was a bit of a talker. Not like that Aerrow kid; he stayed shut up most of the time. I gotta confess he was a bit of amusement in the prison, during my guard duty. I'd just stand outside his cell, Hamish mopping the floor beside me, lil' Con talking to me, his hands hanging carelessly out of the little window on his doors.

"Know what I think about guns? You ever use any?" he's asked me.

"Not really" I'd say.

"Well, shotguns are totally shit. Inaccurate, noisy. Same thing goes fer that launcher stuff. They just blow stuff up. Combat rifles? Yeah, they is pretty good in a fire fight when yer gonna need firepower. Pistols, revolvers? Good sidearms. If ye need somethin' to save yer no good ass, it's a good revolver."

"What about Sub Machine guns?" I asked, and he replied; "Oh, everyone's gonna need some o' that, know what I'm sayin'? And then there's them sniper rifles. Trust me, there's nothin' like death in a single shot!"

To put it simply, Constantine was a gun nut. If anyone knew weapons, it was Constantine.

* * *

It was only later that I realized that Constantine had some odd little hobbies. He would always root through the scrap piles in the prison exercise yard. I once asked him about it and he just said "It's a hobby of mine, you know, pickin' up parts and trying to tell what it is."

Although I sort of knew he was lyin', I kept it to myself.

The next day he asked me, "Hey Randy, what's these walls made of, anyway?"

"The walls? Cyclonian steel alloy or something. Real strong"

The other day, he asked me what I thought about plumbing. I told him that pipes and sewers grossed me out. He just nodded, said he understood and went back to whatever he was doing.

Then, the day after that one, he'd ordered a poster of one of those swimsuit models from those playboy magazines. I didn't ask him about that one, I just shut up.

* * *

Moss would always walk by his cell, looking at Constantine regularly. The warden kinda treated the kid like some sorta hunting trophy. He'd even kept his guns on display in the atrium, and he'd had his skimmer parked next to Bessie in the garage. Constantine would just calmly stare back, totally unfazed. I mean, you get all sorts of crazy people in the prisons. Maniacs, thieves, murderers, traitors, war prisoners. You name it, we had it. But to Moss, Constantine was a whole new game.

They say with Moss around, it's totally impossible to escape from Zartacla. Especially with all those improvements installed.

On the tenth day of Con's confinement, he escaped, anyway and this is how…

As usual, they'd open all the cell doors at once, and they usher prisoners into the dining hall for their breakfast of maggoty food. That day had been different.

There were twenty prisoners in our cell block. When they were ordered out, there were only nineteen. At first I thought that kid had gotten so sick and couldn't even move. Then I thought that the poor feller had done gone and hung himself. That happens to most rats that crack from the pressure.

But, when the warden came over, expecting to either find a sick man or a dead man, he got a bit of a shock. They found no man at all.

* * *

Moss' anger affected even the guards. I had a contact of mine in Moss' office, in the storage section behind it. He said he didn't even have to stick his ear at the keyhole to know what was going on. He said you could hear Moss yelling all the way to Records and Files.

"Waddaya mean, 'he's not there'? Of course he's not there! I want him back ya hear me!?"

"Waddaya mean 'it's not yer shift'? Do you know how much shit I'm gonna go through if Cyclonis hears about this? NOW YOU FIND HIM!!"

But they found no trace of the kid. What they did find, however, was that the little rascal had stolen back his sky ride and weapons.

That afternoon, Moss walked back to the boy's jail cell and stared around at it, fuming. Then, he picked up a small bolt lying on the floor and chucked it at a poster of that porno swimsuit model. And it went through.

Shocked, Moss and a couple of other guys tore the poster off the wall. And found the large gaping hole that had been cut through the metal.

* * *

They finally got someone who could fit into the hole, a skinny drink of water named Ryan. He probably accepted the job hoping for a promotion or something. Although I was disappointed they didn't get one of those beefy muscle men. One of those would have gotten stuck in there as sure as God made green grass. Anyway, he crawled in; head first, the light of the torch poking in.

About halfway in, he said, "Hey warden somethin' smells bad."

"Never mind, ye keep goin' in"

About two feet, he said, "Warden, it smells pretty damn bad…"

"Never mind!"

"Smells like shit…Oh my god, that's what it is! OH MY GOD! OH SHIT, IT'S SHIT, SOMEONE GET ME OUTTA HERE, I THINK I'M GONNA PUKE, _OOOOOHHH, GAAAAAAWWWWWD!"_

And then Ryan retched and retched, and finally blew his groceries.

Well, that was it for me, friends; I just doubled over and bust a gut laughing, laughing fit to split. And oh it felt so good!

"GRAB THAT MAN!!!" yelled Moss.

* * *

Well, it was a day in solitary for me, but I didn't mind one bit. In fact I had time to think about how that cunning little son of a bitch that I was friends with, had escaped.

I thought back and I realized. When Constantine had been searching for parts, he must have happened across a lil' crystal. If I was correct, he melted the walls for a way out. That's why he had asked me what those walls were made of. When he had asked me about plumbing, he'd probably been asking about the bathroom pipes. And when he got that sexy poster, he had been using it to cover up his escape hole.

You must be wondering why he had wanted to ask about bathroom pipes. Apparently, he'd rearranged some pipes. If you ask me, he had wanted to leave a lil' present for Moss, an impression. And boy, did he leave a good one. Insult to injury…

One day, after receiving a résumé from Cyclonis, (He'd been fired) he had paid a little visit to his en suite bathroom. After about two minutes, there was a loud 'BOOM!'

The guards, me included, bust down that door and found the warden.

The bathroom was a wreck, the toilet having exploded while Moss had been sitting on it. There was water everywhere, gushing and spraying out of broken pipes like a fountain and a hole in the false ceiling where his head had hit it. Moss himself had been found minus his pants in the bathtub, covered head to toe in…

Well, you get the idea.

Constantine's escape was passed down from rookie to rookie, and became the stuff of legend. Some say it was even more spectacular than what Aerrow had pulled off, and they were right. Constantine had been a good friend for a feller his age. Me and Hamish would sit in the mess hall,talking about his escape and have a big laugh over it.

And by God, whenever I laughed , I coulda sworn I could hear Constantine laughing along with me…


End file.
